I've never been one to trash an ex-boyfriend, and I'm not going to start now. But the fact of the matter is that one of the reasons my ex and I broke up is not because of something that he did, but something that he didn't do.
We'd been dating for about 2.5 years, and in all that time, I can count on two hands the number of times he "finished the job" when we had sex. At first it didn't matter to me; admittedly I was being taken care of, and he was always ready to go, I'll give him that.
But about two months into the relationship, and only one orgasm for him, I started to think something was wrong. I was Tango; the Fuckbunny. I had never experienced this before. If anything, many of my men, within 20 minutes after climaxing the first time, were ready and able to finish the job, again, in the same session.
I had no idea how to handle this situation. I didn't want to put pressure on him and make it even less likely that he would cum when he fucked me. But I had to say something…things just weren't…right.
When we finally spoke about the situation, BF explained that he would hit a plateau where he would become so excited that he would be…um…oh, I don't know. He explained it to me but I didn't know what the hell he was talking about. It didn't make any sense. That's what men do, and have been doing since caveman days. They have sex, and they spill their seed.
But no seed spilling was going on chez Tango, that was for sure.
It started to bother me, andI began to take it personally. I became self conscious each time we had sex, wondering if I wasn't doing something right. I would put my mouth on him, and ten minutes later he wouldn't be any closer to coming than he was when we started. What man can't come from a Tango blow job? Plus I had the wonderful extra added bonus of having lockjaw for days after.
One night, I fell asleep in my normal sleep attire: tank top and boy-short panties, curled around BF. I am a VERY heavy sleeper. I take a medication at night that totally knocks me out. But something strange - when I woke up in the morning, my panties were off and I felt a bit sticky between the legs.
"Well," I thought, "men have wet dreams; I guess I must have had the female equivalent." I don't remember dreaming anything sexy, or anything at all, actually. I chalked it up to the medicine and the issue that was going on with the BF.
However, the next night, the same thing happened. But this wasn't just a bit of stickiness. This was full on wet: my pussy, the bed sheet on top of which I was sleeping. And the boy shorts I had been wearing to bed were neatly folded up and placed on top of my bureau.
What the fuck?
I went to the bathroom and wiped myself. It was definitely semen that was coming out from inside of me.
No he didn't.
Oh yes he did.
When I asked the BF, he admitted that he had been fucking me while I slept for the past couple of weeks. He woke up one night, hard as a rock, and tried to wake me up as well. But I was sleeping too deeply. So he figured that he would go ahead and start without me. And found that he liked it.
It made me feel very weird, on so many levels. Necrophilia anyone? Plus, BF said, he had even been positioning me; his favorite was me on my side, he curled around me, fucking me from behind.
"So", I asked him in disbelief, "you are only able to have an orgasm if you fuck me while I'm asleep?"
He looked at me like he had discovered the wheel instead of my clit when I was asleep.
"Yeah; you are so out of it, I can do anything I want to you. Sometimes I play with you for over an hour."
He seemed proud. LIke there was nothing wrong with what he was doing.
And maybe there wasn't
I thought about it.
It seemed to solve two problems: my seeming inability to please him when we were both awake, and him not being able to get his rocks off. While I thought there was something a little icky about it, I needed to face the reality that, for right now, it would have to do.
I looked at him.
"I'll start sleeping without my panties," I said. "That should make it easier for you."
We'd been dating for about 2.5 years, and in all that time, I can count on two hands the number of times he "finished the job" when we had sex. At first it didn't matter to me; admittedly I was being taken care of, and he was always ready to go, I'll give him that.
But about two months into the relationship, and only one orgasm for him, I started to think something was wrong. I was Tango; the Fuckbunny. I had never experienced this before. If anything, many of my men, within 20 minutes after climaxing the first time, were ready and able to finish the job, again, in the same session.
I had no idea how to handle this situation. I didn't want to put pressure on him and make it even less likely that he would cum when he fucked me. But I had to say something…things just weren't…right.
When we finally spoke about the situation, BF explained that he would hit a plateau where he would become so excited that he would be…um…oh, I don't know. He explained it to me but I didn't know what the hell he was talking about. It didn't make any sense. That's what men do, and have been doing since caveman days. They have sex, and they spill their seed.
But no seed spilling was going on chez Tango, that was for sure.
It started to bother me, andI began to take it personally. I became self conscious each time we had sex, wondering if I wasn't doing something right. I would put my mouth on him, and ten minutes later he wouldn't be any closer to coming than he was when we started. What man can't come from a Tango blow job? Plus I had the wonderful extra added bonus of having lockjaw for days after.
One night, I fell asleep in my normal sleep attire: tank top and boy-short panties, curled around BF. I am a VERY heavy sleeper. I take a medication at night that totally knocks me out. But something strange - when I woke up in the morning, my panties were off and I felt a bit sticky between the legs.
"Well," I thought, "men have wet dreams; I guess I must have had the female equivalent." I don't remember dreaming anything sexy, or anything at all, actually. I chalked it up to the medicine and the issue that was going on with the BF.
However, the next night, the same thing happened. But this wasn't just a bit of stickiness. This was full on wet: my pussy, the bed sheet on top of which I was sleeping. And the boy shorts I had been wearing to bed were neatly folded up and placed on top of my bureau.
What the fuck?
I went to the bathroom and wiped myself. It was definitely semen that was coming out from inside of me.
No he didn't.
Oh yes he did.
When I asked the BF, he admitted that he had been fucking me while I slept for the past couple of weeks. He woke up one night, hard as a rock, and tried to wake me up as well. But I was sleeping too deeply. So he figured that he would go ahead and start without me. And found that he liked it.
It made me feel very weird, on so many levels. Necrophilia anyone? Plus, BF said, he had even been positioning me; his favorite was me on my side, he curled around me, fucking me from behind.
"So", I asked him in disbelief, "you are only able to have an orgasm if you fuck me while I'm asleep?"
He looked at me like he had discovered the wheel instead of my clit when I was asleep.
"Yeah; you are so out of it, I can do anything I want to you. Sometimes I play with you for over an hour."
He seemed proud. LIke there was nothing wrong with what he was doing.
And maybe there wasn't
I thought about it.
It seemed to solve two problems: my seeming inability to please him when we were both awake, and him not being able to get his rocks off. While I thought there was something a little icky about it, I needed to face the reality that, for right now, it would have to do.
I looked at him.
"I'll start sleeping without my panties," I said. "That should make it easier for you."
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